Write His Answer

Hannah S. Hunter – guest blogger

Jewish custom was to name a child prophetically. The parents would inquire of the Lord what He had planned for the life of the child. Most of our ancestors who immigrated to this country had last names that depicted their occupation. Kolb is a surname of my relatives and it means cobbler—one who builds, fixes, or repairs shoes.

Marlene, the conference director and head of our critique group, chose my continuing session to be with Tim Shoemaker at the Greater Philadelphia Christian Writer’s Conference. As this was my first writer’s conference, I was trying to take in the whole vista, but I was unsure where to focus my attention. Wrapping my mind around writer in the same sentence with my name was incomprehensible.

Tim’s workshops focused on getting published. What! No where near that landmark! Watching him closely had me on the verge of tears. Even on the way home our conversation had me waxing maudlin. My son wondered what was going on with me. His father taught him well. Listen! Comfort! Do not try to come up with an answer. My son let me weep.

After a night of tossing, turning, and weeping on went the game face as we moved through another day of classes. Saturday morning there was a flood of tears so copious it was difficult to drive to the conference.

Before we left the car my son prayed that the Holy Spirit would open an opportunity for me to speak with Tim. We walked in the door and there was Tim standing at the book table. I told him how I saw the purity of his heart, his love of God with all abandonment, his love for the wife of his youth, and his unselfish love in raising three young men who are walking with the Lord.

“You remind me so much of my husband who is now with the Lord. How privileged I was to have such a man call me his wife.”

Tim told me he was approached about writing a book on being such a man. My spirit leapt because my prayer had been, If my husband had to die, raise up such men to carry on that standard.

Tim is a shoemaker. He is going to provide the best constructed shoes for men to wear and walk in. They will be at ease changing a diaper, dancing the waltz, playing tag football in the mud, and being swift to run where needed. They will climb to heights to bask in His glory and also see the next valley they must traverse. May his tribe increase, and thank You, God, that men still raise Your standard high.

Each year I make a memorial garden for John in my box garden by my patio. In the picture you will see the iron cross covered in morning glories. The cross has my beloved engraved on it. It was made by a blacksmith friend of mine. Also you will see the statue of the angel. It has a broken wing. The theme this year was broken dreams. You do not see it in the picture, but I have several broken wings placed at the foot of the cross and the angel statue. Three shoes with sunflowers of course symbolize the piece on shoemakers and John’s shoes left in a field of sunflowers in Scotland.